Pride and Prejudice - Light and Dark
by Anei
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune and Dark must be in want of a Hikari. "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen Yu Gi Oh Style.
1. Chapter 1

There is only one book I've read that I can pick up and read over and over again. "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen has just swept my heart away. There isn't anything particularly exciting about it. It's slow and has no action. What draws me to this book is the dialogue and the language of the time. I had come up with this great idea-fantastic idea, that "Pride and Predjudice" could easily be modified Yu Gi Oh style. I then realized last night before I fell asleep maybe someone else had this great idea as well? There is another story-very similar, yet different. It seems to have been discontinued. I hope you can draw as much love from how the English was spoken at the time. I worried that although the language is pretty, it's still hard to understand.

The story is slow moving and rambles on and on, but I will follow it to a great likeness of the original book.

If there are Jane Austen lovers and you aren't following the characters as well or something seems to be off, let me know! If there are any spelling mistakes or if I over looked in replacing someone's original name from the book let me know, please!

There is nothing in this story that belongs to me. The plot and words (except for a bit of modification) belongs to Jane Austen. Furthermore, the characters do not belong to me. I would also like to point out the idea behind having Yami and Hikaris are not even my own. I acquired the idea reading "Yugioh Mulan" by Wordsorcereress. It's not quite the same as she's done but I refuse to take credit for it.

**Chapter 1**

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune and Dark must be in want of a Hikari.

It had been passed down from legends that the one in possession of his perfect Hikari would bring good fortune, luck and ever-long happiness. In the perfect balance of Dark and Hikari, a great force would ascend and bring forth the best in both.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their Hikaris.

"My dear Mr. Wheeler," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

Mr. Wheeler replied that he had not.

"But it is," returned she; "for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it."

Mr. Wheeler made no answer.

"Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.

"_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

This was invitation enough.

"Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune and great Dark from the north of Osaka; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week."

"What is his name?"

"Mr Yami Mutou."

"Is he married or single?"

"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. With a Dark Magician as Dark! What a fine thing for our Hikaris and daughters!"

The Wheeler family had born five children. The two eldest, Yugi and Jou were born Hikaris. As all Hikari children they were born with the kanji of light on their body. They were both the most sensible of the five. Anzu had been the third born with nothing to recommend her. Mai, the fourth born possessed a kanji and Serenity, the last-born held no symbol upon her body.

"How so? How can it affect them?"

"My dear Mr. Wheeler," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

"Is that his design in settling here?"

"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he _may_ fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes."

"I see no occasion for that. You and the children may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Mutou may like you the best of the party."

"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly _have_ had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up children, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Mutou when he comes into the neighborhood."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider your children. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir Honda and Lady Honda are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for _us_ to visit him if you do not."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Mutou will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the children; though I must throw in a good word for my Jou."

"I desire you will do no such thing. Jou is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure he is not half so handsome as Yugi, nor half so good-humoured as Mai. But you are always giving _him_ the preference."

"They have none of them much to recommend them," replied he; "they are all silly and ignorant like other Hikaris; but Jou has something more of quickness than the others. He is like no other common Hikari"

Hikaris possessed an inner beauty and glowing charm that children without the symbol did not possess. Hikaris were often sought because of their charisma and inner light. In a room full of natural born, one could easily identify Hikaris by the glow of their skin and alluring auras.

"Mr. Wheeler, how _can_ you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least."

"Ah, you do not know what I suffer."

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year come into the neighborhood."

"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them."

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all."

Mr. Wheeler was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. _Her_ mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her children-all natural blood and Hikari- married; its solace was visiting and news.

Mr. Wheeler was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Mutou. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following manner.

Observing his second son employed in sharpening a blade, he suddenly addressed him with:

"I hope Mr. Mutou will like it, Jou."

"We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Mutou likes," said her mother resentfully, "since we are not to visit."

"But you forget, ma," said Jonouchi, "that we shall meet him at the assemblies, an' that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him."

"I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her."

"No more have I," said Mr. Wheeler; "and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you."

Mrs. Wheeler deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

"Don't keep coughing so, Serenity, for Heaven's sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces."

"Serenity has no discretion in her coughs," said her father; "she times them ill."

"I do not cough for my own amusement," replied Serenity fretfully. "When is your next ball to be, Jou?"

"To-morrow fortnight."

"Aye, so it is," cried her mother, "and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself."

"Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Mutou to _her_."

"Impossible, Mr. Wheeler, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teasing?"

"I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if _we_ do not venture somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her daughters must stand their chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself."

The children stared at their father. Mrs. Wheeler said only, "Nonsense, nonsense!"

"What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?" cried he. "Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you _there_. What say you, Anzu? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts."

Anzu wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.

"While Anzu is adjusting her ideas," he continued, "let us return to Mr. Mutou."

"I am sick of Mr. Mutou," cried his wife.

"I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did not you tell me that before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now."

The astonishment of the listeners was just what he wished; that of Mrs. Wheeler perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.

"How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Wheeler! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your children too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now."

"Now, Serenity, you may cough as much as you choose," said Mr. Wheeler; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.

"What an excellent father you have!" said she, when the door was shut. "I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me, either, for that matter. At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but for your sakes, we would do anything. Mai, my love, though you _are_ the youngest, I dare say Mr. Mutou will dance with you at the next ball."

"Oh!" said Mai stoutly, "I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the youngest, I'm the tallest."

The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Wheeler's visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.

Not all that Mrs. Wheeler, however, with the assistance of her five children, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Mutou. They attacked him in various ways—with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, Lady Honda. Her report was highly favourable. Sir Honda had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Mutou's heart were entertained.

"If I can but see one of my children happily settled at Netherfield," said Mrs. Wheeler to her husband, "and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for."

In a few days Mr. Mutou returned Mr. Wheeler's visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of his children, of whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father. The children were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse.

An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Wheeler planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Mutou was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Wheeler was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Honda quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Mutou was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The children grieved over such a party, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only three with him from London—his two brothers and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether—Mr. Mutou, his two brothers; Bakura (the eldest) and Marik, the husband of the eldest, Ryou and another young man.

Mr. Mutou was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His brothers were fine men with Darks, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Ryou, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Kaiba soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man with an incredible Dark, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Mutou, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Kyoto could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.

Families who born Darks were considered privileged and immediately recognized in society. Children with a Dark were distinguishable by a special kanji upon their body that named a Great Spirit creature that had long existed among their ancestors. Spirit creatures had once walked the earth generations ago. Darks had a natural compelling aura that attracted you to them. Like the Hikaris, their physic held certain darkness to them unlike the light that drew you to their opposite.

Mr. Mutou had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Kaiba danced only once with Bakura and once with Marik, declined being introduced to any other person, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Wheeler, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her children.

Jonouchi Wheeler had been obliged, by the scarcity of appealing partners, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Kaiba had been standing near enough for him to hear a conversation between him and Mr. Mutou, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.

"Come, Kaiba," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your brothers are engaged, and there is not another Hikari in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Mr. Mutou, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant people in my life as I have this evening; and there are several Hikaris of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"_You_ are dancing with the only handsome Hikari in the room," said Mr. Kaiba, looking at the eldest of the Wheelers.

"Oh! He is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of his Hikaris sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round he looked for a moment at Jonouchi, till catching his eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: "He is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt _me_; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to Hikaris who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy his smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Mr. Mutou followed his advice. Mr. Kaiba walked off; and Jonouchi remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. He told the story, however, with great spirit among his friends; for he had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.

The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Wheeler had seen her eldest Hikari much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Mutou had danced with him twice, and he had been distinguished by his Hikaris. Yugi was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Jonouchi felt Yugi's pleasure. Anzu had heard herself mentioned to Marik as the most accomplished Hikari in the neighbourhood; and Tristan and Mai had been fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Wheeler still up. With a book he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife's views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear.

"Oh! my dear Mr. Wheeler," as she entered the room, "we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Yugi was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well he looked; and Mr. Mutou thought him quite beautiful, and danced with him twice! Only think of _that_, my dear; he actually danced with him twice! and he was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. First of all, he asked Tristan. I was so vexed to see him stand up with him! But, however, he did not admire him at all; indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Yugi as he was going down the dance. So he inquired who he was, and got introduced, and asked him for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Honda, and the two fifth with Yugi again, and the two sixth with Jou, and the _Boulanger_—"

"If he had had any compassion for _me_," cried her husband impatiently, "he would not have danced half so much! For God's sake, say no more of his partners. Oh that he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!"

"Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his siblings are charming creatures. To imagine-they are all in possession of a Dark! I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their attires, either. I dare say the lace upon Bakura's chemise—"

Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Wheeler protested against any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Kaiba.

"But I can assure you," she added, "that Jou does not lose much by not suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man."

When Yugi and Jonouchi were alone, the former, who had been cautious in his praise of Mr. Mutou before, expressed to his brother just how very much he admired him.

"He is just what a Dark ought to be," said he, "sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"

"He is also handsome," replied Jonouchi, "which a young man with Dark ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete."

"I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment."

"Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other Hikari in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person."

"Dear Jou!"

"Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life."

"I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think."

"I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough—one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design—to take the good of everybody's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad—belongs to you alone. And so you like this man's siblings, too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his."

"Certainly not—at first. But they are very pleasing when you converse with them. Bakura is to live with his brothers, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in him."

Jonouchi listened in silence, but was not convinced; their behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than his brother, and with a judgement too unassailed by any attention to himself, he was very little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine men; not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the north of Kyoto; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.

Mr. Mutou inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Mutou intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase.

His siblings were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but, though he was now only established as a tenant, Marik was by no means unwilling to preside at his table—nor was Bakura, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited him. Mr. Mutou had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour—was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.

Between him and Kaiba there was a very steady friendship, in spite of great opposition of character. Mutou was endeared to Kaiba by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Kaiba's regard, Mutou had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Kaiba was the superior. Mutou was by no means deficient, but Kaiba was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Mutou was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Kaiba was continually giving offense.

The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Mutou had never met with more pleasant people or prettier Hikaris in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as to Yugi, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Kaiba, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Yugi he acknowledged to be pretty, but he smiled too much.

Bakura and his brother allowed it to be so—but still they admired him and liked him, and pronounced him to be a sweet Hikari, and one whom they would not object to know more of Yugi, was therefore established as a sweet boy, and their brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of him as he chose.

Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Wheelers were particularly intimate. Sir William Honda had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his business, and to his residence in a small market town; and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Honda Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him courteous.

Lady Honda was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Wheeler. They had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young man about twenty-seven, was Jonouchi's intimate friend.

That Tristan and Jonouchi should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.

"You began the evening well, Tristan," said Mrs. Wheeler with civil self-command to Tristan. "You were Mr. Mutou's first choice."

"Yes; but he seemed to like his second better."

"Oh! you mean Yugi, I suppose, because he danced with him twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired him—indeed I rather believe he did—I heard something about it—but I hardly know what—something about Mr. Robinson."

"Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty Hikaris in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question: 'Oh! the eldest Wheeler, beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point.'"

"Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed—that does seem as if—but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know."

"My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours, Jono," said Tristan. "Mr. Kaiba is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he?—poor Jono!—to be only just tolerable."

"I beg you would not put it into Jou's head to be vexed by his ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half-an-hour without once opening his lips."

"Are you quite sure, ma'am?—is not there a little mistake?" said Yugi. "I certainly saw Mr. Kaiba speaking to her."

"Aye—because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed quite angry at being spoke to."

"Miss Mutou told me," said Yugi, "that he never speaks much, unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is remarkably agreeable."

"I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise."

"I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long," said Honda, "but I wish he had danced with Jono."

"Another time, Jou," said her mother, "I would not dance with him, if I were you."

"I believe, ma'am, I may safely promise you never to dance with him."

"His pride," said Honda, "does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud."

"That is very true," replied Jonouchi, "and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

"Pride," observed Anzu, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, "is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

"If I were as rich as Mr. Kaiba," cried the young Honda, who came with his brother, "I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a day."

"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said Mrs. Wheeler; "and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly."

The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

The people of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was soon returned in due form. Yugi's pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Bakura and Marik; and though the mother was found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them were expressed towards the two eldest. By Yugi, this attention was received with the greatest pleasure, but Jonouchi still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even his brother, and could not like them; though their kindness to Yugi, such as it was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire him and to he it was equally evident that Yugi was yielding to the preference which he had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but he considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Yugi united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard him from the suspicions of the impertinent. He mentioned this to his friend Tristan.

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Tristan, "to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a Hikari conceals their affection with the same skill from the object of it, he may lose the opportunity of fixing a Dark; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the shad. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a Hikari had better show more affection than he feels. Mutou likes your brother undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like him, if he does not help him on."

"But he does help him on, as much as his nature will allow. If I can perceive his regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too."

"Remember, Jono, that he does not know Yugi's disposition as you do."

"But if a Hikari is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out."

"Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of him. But, though Yami and Yugi meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Yugi should therefore make the most of every half-hour in which he can command his attention. When he is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as he chooses."

"Your plan is a good one," replied Jonouchi, "where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Yugi's feelings; he is not acting by design. As yet, he cannot even be certain of the degree of his own regard nor of its reasonableness. He has known him only a fortnight. He danced four dances with him at Meryton; he saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make him understand his character."

"Not as you represent it. Had he merely dined with him, he might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have also been spent together—and four evenings may do a great deal."

"Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded."

"Well," said Tristan, "I wish Yugi success with all my heart; and if he were married to him to-morrow, I should think he had as good a chance of happiness as if he were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

"You make me laugh, Tristan; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself."

Occupied in observing Mr. Mutou's attentions to his brother, Jonouchi was far from suspecting that he was himself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Kaiba had at first scarcely allowed him to be pretty; he had looked at him without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at him only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that he hardly had a good feature in his face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of golden eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in his form, he was forced to acknowledge his figure to be strong and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that his manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this Jonouchi was perfectly unaware; to him he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought him handsome enough to dance with.

He began to wish to know more of him, and as a step towards conversing with him himself, attended to his conversation with others. His doing so drew his notice. It was at Sir William Honda's, where a large party were assembled.

"What does Mr. Kaiba mean," said he to Tristan, "by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?"

"That is a question which Mr. Kaiba only can answer."

"But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him."

On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Tristan defied his friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking Jonouchi to do it, he turned to him and said:

"Did you not think, Mr. Kaiba, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

"With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a Hikari energetic."

"You are severe on us."

"It will be his turn soon to be teased," said Tristan. "I am going to open the instrument, Jono, and you know what follows."

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers." On Tristan's persevering, however, he added, "Very well, if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Kaiba, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge'; and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

His performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before he could reply to the entreaties of several that he would sing again, he was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by his sister Anzu, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.

Anzu had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Jonouchi, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Anzu, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Hondas, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Mr. Kaiba stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Honda was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Kaiba! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society."

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."

Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully," he continued after a pause, on seeing Yami join the group; "and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Kaiba."

"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir."

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"

"Never, sir."

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"

"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it."

"You have a house in town, I conclude?"

Mr. Kaiba bowed.

"I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself—for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of Kyoto would agree with Lady Honda."

He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Jonouchi at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to him:

"My dear Jono, why are you not dancing? Mr. Kaiba, you must allow me to present this young Hikari to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty and charm is before you." And, taking his hand, he would have given it to Mr. Kaiba who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when he instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William:

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

Mr. Kaiba, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of his hand, but in vain. Jonouchi was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake his purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

"You excel so much in the dance, Jono, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour."

"Mr. Kaiba is all politeness," said Jonouchi, smiling.

"He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Jono, we cannot wonder at his complaisance—for who would object to such a partner?"

Jonouchi looked archly, and turned away. His resistance had not injured him with the gentleman, and he was thinking of him with some complacency, when thus accosted by Marik:

"I can guess the subject of your reverie."

"I should imagine not."

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty Hikari can bestow."

Marik immediately fixed his eyes on Kaiba, and desired he would tell him what Hikari had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Kaiba replied with great intrepidity:

"Jonouchi Wheeler."

"Jonouchi Wheeler!" repeated Marik. "I am all astonishment. How long has he been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?"

"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A Dark's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."

"Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you."

He listened to his with perfect indifference while he chose to entertain himself in this manner; and as his composure convinced him that all was safe, his wit flowed long.

Mr. Wheeler's property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his children, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.

She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in Kyoto in a respectable line of trade.

The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the children, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Serenity and Mai, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their siblings', and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.

Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Mutou's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign.

After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Wheeler coolly observed:

"From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced."

Serenity was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Mai, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.

"I am astonished, my dear," said Mrs. Wheeler, "that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however."

"If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it."

"Yes—but as it happens, they are all of them very clever."

"This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish."

"My dear Mr. Wheeler, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well—and, indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in his regimentals."

"Mamma," cried Mai, "my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library."

Mrs. Wheeler was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Mr Yugi Wheeler; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Wheeler's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her son read,

"Well, Yugi, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Yugi, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love."

"It is from Marik," said Yugi, and then read it aloud.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,—

"If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Bakura and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tete-a-tete between two men can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.—Yours ever,

"MARIK MUTOU"

"With the officers!" cried Mai. "I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that."

"Dining out," said Mrs. Wheeler, "that is very unlucky."

"Can I have the carriage?" said Yugi.

"No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night."

"That would be a good scheme," said Jonouchi, "if you were sure that they would not offer to send him home."

"Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Mutou's chaise to go to Meryton, and they have no horses to theirs."

"I had much rather go in the coach."

"But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Wheeler, are they not?"

"They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them."

"But if you have got them to-day," said Jonouchi, "my mother's purpose will be answered."

She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged. Yugi was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended him to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Yugi had not been gone long before it rained hard. His siblings were uneasy for him, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Yugi certainly could not come back.

"This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!" said Mrs. Wheeler more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Jonouchi:

"MY DEAREST JOU,—

"I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc."

"Well, my dear," said Mr. Wheeler, when Jonouchi had read the note aloud, "if your son should have a dangerous fit of illness—if he should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Mutou, and under your orders."

"Oh! I am not afraid of him dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. He will be taken good care of. As long as he stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see him if I could have the carriage."

Jonouchi, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to him, though the carriage was not to be had; and as he was no horseman, walking was his only alternative. He declared his resolution.

"How can you be so silly," cried her mother, "as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there."

"I shall be very fit to see Yugi—which is all I want."

"Is this a hint to me, Jou," said his father, "to send for the horses?"

"No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner."

"I admire the activity of your benevolence," observed Anzu, "but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required."

"We will go as far as Meryton with you," said Serenity and Mai. Jonouchi accepted their company, and the three set off together.

"If we make haste," said Mai, as they walked along, "perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes."

In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Jonouchi continued his walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding himself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

He was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Yugi were assembled, and where his appearance created a great deal of surprise. That he should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by himself, was almost incredible to Bakura and Marik; and Jonouchi was convinced that they held him in contempt for it. He was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. Mr. Kaiba said very little, and Ryou nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to his complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying his coming so far alone, being only a Hikari. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.

His inquiries after his broter were not very favourably answered. Yugi had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave his room. Jonouchi was glad to be taken to him immediately; and Yugi, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in him note how much he longed for such a visit, was delighted at his entrance. He was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Marik left them together, could attempt little besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness he was treated with. Jonouchi silently attended him.

When breakfast was over they were joined by the brothers; and Jonouchi began to like them himself, when he saw how much affection and solicitude they showed for Yugi. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that he had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised him to return to bed, and promised him some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and his head ached acutely. Jonouchi did not quit his room for a moment.

When the clock struck three, Jonouchi felt that he must go, and very unwillingly said so. Marik offered him the carriage, and he only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Yugi testified such concern in parting with him, that Marik was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Jonouchi most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with his stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

At five o'clock the two Hikaris retired to dress, and at half-past six Jonouchi was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and amongst which he had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Mutou's, he could not make a very favourable answer. Yugi was by no means better. Bakura and Marik, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their indifference towards Yugi when not immediately before them restored Jonouchi to the enjoyment of all his former dislike.

Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom he could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Yugi was evident, and his attentions to himself most pleasing, and they prevented his feeling himself so much an intruder as he believed he was considered by the others. He had very little notice from any but him. Marik was engrossed by Mr. Kaiba, his brother scarcely less so; and as for Ryou, by whom Jonouchi sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found him to prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to him.

When dinner was over, he returned directly to Yugi, and Bakura began abusing him as soon as he was out of the room. His manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; he had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Marik thought the same, and added:

"He has nothing, in short, to recommend him, but being an excellent walker and Hikari. I shall never forget his appearance this morning. He really looked almost like a wild dog."

"He did, indeed, Marik. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must he be scampering about the country, because his brother had a cold? His hair, so untidy, so blowsy!"

"Yes, and his shoes; I hope you saw-his pants, six inches deep in mud."

"Your picture may be very exact, Bakura," said Mutou; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Jonouchi Wheeler looked remarkably well when he came into the room this morning. His dirty attire quite escaped my notice."

"You observed it, Mr. Kaiba, I am sure," said Marik; "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your brother make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not."

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above his ankles in dirt-possibly even manure, and alone, quite alone and only a Hikari! What could he mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum."

"It shows an affection for his brother that is very pleasing," said Yami.

"I am afraid, Mr. Kaiba," observed Marik in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of his fine eyes."

"Not at all," he replied; "they were brightened by the exercise." A short pause followed this speech, and Bakura began again:

"I have an excessive regard for Yugi Wheeler, he is really a very sweet Hikari, and I wish with all my heart he were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton."

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added Marik, and they both laughed heartily.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Yami, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Kaiba.

To this speech Mutou made no answer; but his brothers gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to his room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with him till summoned to coffee. He was still very poorly, and Jonouchi would not quit him at all, till late in the evening, when he had the comfort of seeing him sleep, and when it seemed to he rather right than pleasant that he should go downstairs himself. On entering the drawing-room he found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high he declined it, and making his brother the excuse, said he would amuse himself for the short time he could stay below, with a book. Bakura looked at him with astonishment.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather singular."

"Jono Wheeler," said Marik, "despises cards. He is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Jonouchi; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your brother I am sure you have pleasure," said Yami; "and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing him quite well."

Jonouchi thanked him from his heart, and then walked towards the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch him others—all that his library afforded.

"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into."

Jonouchi assured him that he could suit imrself perfectly with those in the room.

"I am astonished," said Marik, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Kaiba!"

"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books."

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

"I wish it may."

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in Kyoto than Derbyshire."

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Kaiba will sell it."

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Marik, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

Jonouchi was so much caught with what passed, as to leave his very little attention for his book; and soon laying it wholly aside, he drew near the card-table, and stationed himself between Mr. Mutou and his eldest brother, to observe the game.

"Is young Kaiba much grown since the spring?" said Marik; "will he be as tall as I am?"

"I think he will. He is now about Jonouchi Wheeler's height, or rather taller."

"How I long to see him again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for his age! HE performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."

"It is amazing to me," said Mutou, "how Hikaris can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"

"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a Hikari spoken of for the first time, without being informed that he was very accomplished."

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," said Kaiba, "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a Hikaris who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of Hikaris in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

"Nor I, I am sure," said Marik.

"Then," observed Jonouchi, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished Hikari."

"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it."

"Oh! certainly," cried his faithful assistant, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A Hikari must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, martial arts, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, a Hikari must possess a certain something in their air and manner of walking, the tone of their voice, their address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

"All this they must possess," added Kaiba, "and to all this they must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of their mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished Hikaris. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own Hikaris as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a Hikari. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united."

Bakura and Marik both cried out against the injustice of his implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many Hikaris who answered this description, when Bakura called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Jonouchi soon afterwards left the room.

"Jonouchi Wheeler," said Marik, when the door was closed on him, "is one of those Hikaris who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

"Undoubtedly," replied Kaiba, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, "there is a meanness in all the arts which Hikari sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."

Marik was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.

Jonouchi joined them again only to say that his brother was worse, and that he could not leave him. Yami urged Mr. Jones being sent for immediately; while his siblings, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This he would not hear of; but he was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if the eldest Wheeler were not decidedly better. Yami was quite uncomfortable; his siblings declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duels after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every attention might be paid to the sick Hikari and her beloved brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jonouchi passed the chief of the night in his brother's room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the inquiries which he very early received from Mr. Mutou by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant brothers who waited on Yugi. In spite of this amendment, however, he requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring his mother to visit Yugi, and form her own judgement of his situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Wheeler, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.

Had she found Yugi in any apparent danger, Mrs. Wheeler would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing him that his illness was not alarming, she had no wish of him recovering immediately, as his restoration to health would probably remove him from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her son's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Yugi, on Marik's appearance and invitation, the mother, Jonouchi and two daughters all attended him into the breakfast parlour. Yami met them with hopes that Mrs. Wheeler had not found Mr Wheeler worse than she expected.

"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "He is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving him. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

"Removed!" cried Yami. "It must not be thought of. My brother, I am sure, will not hear of his removal."

"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Marik, with cold civility, "that Mr Wheeler will receive every possible attention while he remains with us."

Mrs. Wheeler was profuse in her acknowledgments.

"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of him, for he is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with him, for he has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other children they are nothing to _him_. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Mutou, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease."

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied he; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Jonouchi.

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards him.

"Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful."

"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

"Jou," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

"I did not know before," continued Yami immediately, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes, but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have at least that advantage."

"The country," said Kaiba, "can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever."

"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Wheeler, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of _that_ going on in the country as in town."

Everybody was surprised, and Kaiba, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Wheeler, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Mutou?"

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," looking at Kaiba, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken," said Jonouchi, blushing for his mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Kaiba. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families."

Nothing but concern for Jonouchi could enable Mutou to keep his countenance. His brother was less delicate, and directed his eyes towards Mr. Kaiba with a very expressive smile. Jonouchi, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Tristan Honda had been at Longbourn since _her_ coming away.

"Yes, he called yesterday with his father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Mutou, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. _That_ is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

"Did Tristan dine with you?"

"No, he would go home. I fancy he was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Mutou, I always keep servants that can do their own work; _my_ children are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Hondas are a very good sort of children, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Tristan so _very_ plain—but then he is our particular friend."

"He seems a very pleasant young man."

"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own he is very plain. Lady Honda herself has often said so, and envied me Yugi's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Yugi—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When he was only fifteen, there was a man with Dark, at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love with him that my sister-in-law was sure he would make him an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought him too young. However, he wrote some verses on him, and very pretty they were."

"And so ended his affection," said Jonouchi impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love," said Kaiba.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

Kaiba only smirked; and the general pause which ensued made Jonouchi tremble lest his mother should be exposing herself again. He longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Wheeler began repeating her thanks to Mr. Mutou for his kindness to Yugi, with an apology for troubling him also with Jou. Mr. Mutou was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger brothers to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Wheeler was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Mutou with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

Mai was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Mutou on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear:

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your brother is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when he is ill."

Mai declared herself satisfied. "Oh! yes—it would be much better to wait till Yugi was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given _your_ ball," she added, "I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not."

Mrs. Wheeler and her daughters then departed, and Jonouchi returned instantly to Yugi, leaving his own and his relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two brothers and Mr. Kaiba; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of _him_, in spite of all Marik's witticisms on _fine eyes_.

Jonouchi passed the chief of the night in his brother's room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the inquiries which he very early received from Mr. Mutou by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant brothers who waited on Yugi. In spite of this amendment, however, he requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring his mother to visit Yugi, and form her own judgement of his situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Wheeler, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.

Had she found Yugi in any apparent danger, Mrs. Wheeler would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing him that his illness was not alarming, she had no wish of him recovering immediately, as his restoration to health would probably remove him from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her son's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Yugi, on Marik's appearance and invitation, the mother, Jonouchi and two daughters all attended him into the breakfast parlour. Yami met them with hopes that Mrs. Wheeler had not found Mr Wheeler worse than she expected.

"Indeed I have, sir," was her answer. "He is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving him. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

"Removed!" cried Yami. "It must not be thought of. My brother, I am sure, will not hear of his removal."

"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Marik, with cold civility, "that Mr Wheeler will receive every possible attention while he remains with us."

Mrs. Wheeler was profuse in her acknowledgments.

"I am sure," she added, "if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of him, for he is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with him, for he has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other children they are nothing to _him_. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Mutou, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease."

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," replied he; "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Jonouchi.

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards him.

"Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful."

"That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

"Jou," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

"I did not know before," continued Yami immediately, "that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes, but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have at least that advantage."

"The country," said Kaiba, "can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever."

"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Wheeler, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. "I assure you there is quite as much of _that_ going on in the country as in town."

Everybody was surprised, and Kaiba, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Wheeler, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

"I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Mutou?"

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," looking at Kaiba, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

"Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken," said Jonouchi, blushing for his mother. "You quite mistook Mr. Kaiba. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families."

Nothing but concern for Jonouchi could enable Mutou to keep his countenance. His brother was less delicate, and directed his eyes towards Mr. Kaiba with a very expressive smile. Jonouchi, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Tristan Honda had been at Longbourn since _her_ coming away.

"Yes, he called yesterday with his father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Mutou, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. _That_ is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

"Did Tristan dine with you?"

"No, he would go home. I fancy he was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Mutou, I always keep servants that can do their own work; _my_ children are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Hondas are a very good sort of children, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Tristan so _very_ plain—but then he is our particular friend."

"He seems a very pleasant young man."

"Oh! dear, yes; but you must own he is very plain. Lady Honda herself has often said so, and envied me Yugi's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Yugi—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When he was only fifteen, there was a man with Dark, at my brother Gardiner's in town so much in love with him that my sister-in-law was sure he would make him an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought him too young. However, he wrote some verses on him, and very pretty they were."

"And so ended his affection," said Jonouchi impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love," said Kaiba.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

Kaiba only smirked; and the general pause which ensued made Jonouchi tremble lest his mother should be exposing herself again. He longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Wheeler began repeating her thanks to Mr. Mutou for his kindness to Yugi, with an apology for troubling him also with Jou. Mr. Mutou was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger brothers to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Wheeler was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Mutou with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

Mai was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Mutou on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear:

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your brother is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when he is ill."

Mai declared herself satisfied. "Oh! yes—it would be much better to wait till Yugi was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given _your_ ball," she added, "I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not."

Mrs. Wheeler and her daughters then departed, and Jonouchi returned instantly to Yugi, leaving his own and his relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two brothers and Mr. Kaiba; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of _him_, in spite of all Marik's witticisms on _fine eyes_.

The day passed much as the day before had done. Bakura and Marik had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Jonouchi joined their party in the drawing-room. The loo-table, however, did not appear. Mr. Kaiba was writing, and Marik, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his brother. Ryou and Mr. Mutou were at piquet, and Bakura was observing their game.

Jonouchi took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Kaiba and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the boy, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which his praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in union with his opinion of each.

"How delighted young Kaiba will be to receive such a letter!"

He made no answer.

"You write uncommonly fast."

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours."

"Pray tell your brother that I long to see him."

"I have already told him so once, by your desire."

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you—but I always mend my own."

"How can you contrive to write so even?"

He was silent.

"Tell your brother I am delighted to hear of his improvement on his swordsmanship; and pray let him know that I am quite in raptures with his beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's."

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice."

"Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see him in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to him, Mr. Kaiba?"

"They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to determine."

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill."

"That will not do for a compliment to Kaiba, Marik," cried his brother, "because he does _not_ write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Kaiba?"

"My style of writing is very different from yours."

"Oh!" cried Marik, "Yami writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest."

"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents."

"Your humility, Mr. Mutou," said Jonouchi, "must disarm reproof."

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Kaiba, "than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast."

"And which of the two do you call _my_ little recent piece of modesty?"

"The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Wheeler this morning that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself—and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?"

"Nay," cried Yami, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before the audience."

"I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, 'Yami, you had better stay till next week,' you would probably do it, you would probably not go—and at another word, might stay a month."

"You have only proved by this," cried Jonouchi, "that Mr. Mutou did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself."

"I am exceedingly gratified," said Yami, "by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could."

"Would Mr. Kaiba then consider the rashness of your original intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?"

"Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Kaiba must speak for himself."

"You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, MrWheeler, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety."

"To yield readily—easily—to the _persuasion_ of a friend is no merit with you."

"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either."

"You appear to me, Mr. Kaiba, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Mutou. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?"

"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?"

"By all means," cried Yami; "let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Mr Wheeler, than you may be aware of. I assure you, that if Kaiba were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Kaiba, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do."

Mr. Kaiba smiled; but Jonouchi thought he could perceive that he was rather offended, and therefore checked his laugh. Marik warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with his brother for talking such nonsense.

"I see your design, Yami," said his friend. "You dislike an argument, and want to silence this."

"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Mr Wheeler will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."

"What you ask," said Jonouchi, "is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Kaiba had much better finish his letter."

Mr. Kaiba took his advice, and did finish his letter.

When that business was over, he applied to Marik and Jonouchi for an indulgence of some music. Marik moved with some alacrity to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Jonouchi would lead the way which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, he seated himself.

Bakura sang with his brother, and while they were thus employed, Jonouchi could not help observing, as he turned over some music-books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Kaiba's eyes were fixed on him. He hardly knew how to suppose that he could be an object of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at him because he disliked him, was still more strange. He could only imagine, however, at last that he drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain him. He liked him too little to care for his approbation.

After playing some Italian songs, Marik varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Kaiba, drawing near Jonouchi, said to him:

"Do not you feel a great inclination, Mr Wheeler, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

He smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at his silence.

"Oh!" said he, "I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare."

Jonouchi, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in his manner which made it difficult for him to affront anybody; and Kaiba had never been so bewitched by any Hikai as he was by Jou. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of his connections, he should be in some danger.

Marik saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and his great anxiety for the recovery of his dear friend Yugi received some assistance from his desire of getting rid of Jonouchi.

He often tried to provoke Kaiba into disliking his guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.

"I hope," said he, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, "you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls and Hikaris of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your Hikari possesses."

"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?"

"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of Crump and Gansley be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge, Johnson. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Jonouchi's picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"

"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied and as the luster of his blonde hair similar to the sun."

At that moment they were met from another walk by Bakura and Jonouchi himself.

"I did not know that you intended to walk," said Marik, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.

"You used us abominably ill," answered Bakura, "running away without telling us that you were coming out."

Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Kaiba, he left Jonouchi to walk by himself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Kaiba felt their rudeness, and immediately said:

"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue."

But Jonouchi, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered:

"No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye."

He then ran gaily off, rejoicing as he rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Yugi was already so much recovered as to intend leaving his room for a couple of hours that evening.

When the party removed after dinner, Jonouchi ran up to his brother, and seeing him well guarded from cold, attended him into the drawing-room, where he was welcomed by his two friends with many professions of pleasure; and Jonouchi had never seen them so agreeable as they were during the hour which passed before the a large group appeared. Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh at their acquaintance with spirit.

But when the Darks entered, Yugi was no longer the first object; Marik's eyes were instantly turned toward Kaiba, and he had something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed himself to Mr Wheeler, with a polite congratulation; Ryou also made him a slight bow, and said he was "very glad;" but diffuseness and warmth remained for Mutou's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest he should suffer from the change of room; and he removed at his desire to the other side of the fireplace, that he might be further from the door. He then sat down by him, and talked scarcely to anyone else. Jonouchi, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great delight.

When tea was over, Ryou reminded his brother-in-law of the card-table—but in vain. He had obtained private intelligence that Mr. Kaiba did not wish for cards; and Ryou soon found even his open petition rejected. He assured him that no one intended to play, and the silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify him. Ryou had therefore nothing to do, but to stretch himself on one of the sofas and go to sleep. Kaiba took up a book; Marik did the same; and Bakura, principally occupied in playing with his bracelets and rings, joined now and then in his brother's conversation with Yugi Wheeler.

Marik's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Kaiba's progress through _his_ book, as in reading his own; and he was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. He could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered his question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with his own book, which he had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, he gave a great yawn and said, "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."

No one made any reply. He then yawned again, threw aside his book, and cast his eyes round the room in quest for some amusement; when hearing his brother mentioning a ball to Yugi, he turned suddenly towards him and said:

"By the bye, Yami, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."

"If you mean Kaiba," cried his brother, "he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards."

"I should like balls infinitely better," he replied, "if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day."

"Much more rational, my dear Marik, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball."

Marik made no answer, and soon afterwards he got up and walked about the room. His figure was elegant, and he walked well; but Kaiba, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In the desperation of his feelings, he resolved on one effort more, and, turning to Jonouchi, said:

"Mr Jono Wheeler, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."

Jonouchi was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Marik succeeded no less in the real object of his civility; Mr. Kaiba looked up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Jonouchi himself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere. "What could he mean? He was dying to know what could be his meaning?"—and asked Jonouchi whether he could at all understand him?

"Not at all," was his answer; "but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."

Marik, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Kaiba in anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his two motives.

"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, as soon as he allowed him to speak. "You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."

"Oh! shocking!" cried Marik. "I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?"

"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Jonouchi. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."

"But upon my honour, I do _not_. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me _that_. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Kaiba may hug himself."

"Mr. Kaiba is not to be laughed at!" cried Jonouchi. "That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to _me_ to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh."

"Marik," said he, "has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."

"Certainly," replied Jonouchi—"there are such people, but I hope I am not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

"Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."

"Such as vanity and pride."

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."

Jonouchi turned away to hide a smile.

"Your examination of Mr. Kaiba is over, I presume," said Marik; "and pray what is the result?"

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Kaiba has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise."

"No," said Kaiba, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever."

"_That_ is a failing indeed!" cried Jonouchi. "Implacable resentment _is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me."

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."

"And _your_ defect is to hate everybody."

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."

"Do let us have a little music," cried Marik, tired of a conversation in which he had no share. "Bakura, you will not mind my waking Ryou?"

His brother had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened; and Kaiba, after a few moments' recollection, was not sorry for it. He began to feel the danger of paying Jonouchi too much attention.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In consequence of an agreement between the brothers, Jonouchi wrote the next morning to their mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Wheeler, who had calculated on her Hikaris remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly finish Yugi's week, could not bring herself to receive them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least not to Jonouchi's wishes, for he was impatient to get home. Mrs. Wheeler sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Mutou and his brothers pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very well. Against staying longer, however, Jonouchi was positively resolved—nor did he much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, hr urged Yugi to borrow Mr. Mutou's carriage immediately, and at length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.

The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on Yugi; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Marik was then sorry that he had proposed the delay, for his jealousy and dislike of one brother much exceeded his affection for the other.

The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Mr Wheeler that it would not be safe for him—that he was not enough recovered; but Yugi was firm where he felt himself to be right.

To Mr. Kaiba it was welcome intelligence—Jonouchi had been at Netherfield long enough. He attracted him more than he liked—and Marik was uncivil to _him_, and more teasing than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should _now_ escape him, nothing that could elevate his with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to him through the whole of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at him.

On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Marik's civility to Jonouchi increased at last very rapidly, as well as his affection for Yugi; and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give him to see him either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing him most tenderly, he even shook hands with the former. Jonouchi took leave of the whole party in the liveliest of spirits.

They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Wheeler wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Yugi would have caught cold again. But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense by the absence of Yugi and Jonouchi.

They found Anzu, as usual, deep in the study of thorough-bass and human nature; and had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of threadbare morality to listen to. Serenity and Mai had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.

"I hope, my dear," said Mr. Wheeler to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, "that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party."

"Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Tristan Honda should happen to call in—and I hope _my_ dinners are good enough for him. I do not believe he often sees such at home."

"The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger."

Mrs. Wheeler's eyes sparkled. "A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Mutou, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Mutou. But—good Lord! how unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got to-day. Mai, my love, ring the bell—I must speak to Hill this moment."

"It is _not_ Mr. Mutou," said her husband; "it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and his five children at once.

After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained:

"About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Ryuji Otogi, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

"Oh! my dear," cried his wife, "I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."

Yugi and Jonouchi tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Wheeler was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five children, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.

"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Wheeler, "and nothing can clear Mr. Otogi from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself."

"No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before him?"

"Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear."

"Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October.

"Dear Sir,—

"The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.—

'There, Mrs. Wheeler.'—My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Ishizu Ishtar, widow of Sir Shadi Ishtar, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of Japan. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive-branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable children, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends—but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se'ennight following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Ishizuis far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.—I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and children, your well-wisher and friend,

"RYUJI OTOGI"

"At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman," said Mr. Wheeler, as he folded up the letter. "He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Ishizu should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again."

"There is some sense in what he says about the children, however, and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him."

"Though it is difficult," said Yugi, "to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit."

Jonouchi was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for Lady Ishizu, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever it were required.

"He must be an oddity, I think," said he. "I cannot make him out.—There is something very pompous in his style.—And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail?—We cannot suppose he would help it if he could.—Could he be a sensible man, sir?"

"No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him."

"In point of composition," said Anzu, "the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed."

To Serenity and Mai, neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for their mother, Mr. Otogi's letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which astonished her husband and children.

Mr. Otogi was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Wheeler indeed said little; but the children were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Otogi seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, slim young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and flamboyant, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Wheeler on having so fine a family of sons and daughters; said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this instance fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs. Wheeler, who quarreled with no compliments, answered most readily.

"You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly."

"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate."

"Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor children, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with _you_, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed."

"I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the sons and daughters that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted—"

He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the children smiled on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Otogi's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised; and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Wheeler's heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing. But he was set right there by Mrs. Wheeler, who assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her children had nothing to do in the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour.

During dinner, Mr. Wheeler scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady Ishizu Ishtar's attention to his wishes, and consideration for his comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Wheeler could not have chosen better. Mr. Otogi was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect he protested that "he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady Ishizu. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honour of preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of quadrille in the evening. Lady Ishizu was reckoned proud by many people he knew, but _he_ had never seen anything but affability in her. She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some herself—some shelves in the closet up stairs."

"That is all very proper and civil, I am sure," said Mrs. Wheeler, "and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?"

"The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship's residence."

"I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?"

"She has only one Hikari, the heir of Rosings, and of very extensive property."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Wheeler, shaking her head, "then he is better off than many Hikaris. And what sort of young man is he? Is he handsome?"

"He is a most charming young man indeed. Lady Ishizu herself says that, in point of true beauty, Sir Ishtar is far superior to the handsomest of his sex, because there is that in his features which marks the young Hikari of distinguished birth. He is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented him from making that progress in many accomplishments which he could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended his education, and who still resides with them. But he is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in his little phaeton and ponies."

"Has he been presented? I do not remember his name among the Hikaris at court."

"His indifferent state of health unhappily prevents him being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Ishizu one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. & Hikari's alike I have more than once observed to Lady Ishizu, that her charming son seemed born to be a king, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving him consequence, would be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay."

"You judge very properly," said Mr. Wheeler, "and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?"

"They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible."

Mr. Wheeler's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, and, except in an occasional glance at Jonouchi, requiring no partner in his pleasure.

By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Wheeler was glad to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and, when tea was over, glad to invite him to read aloud to the Children. Mr. Otogi readily assented, and a book was produced; but, on beholding it (for everything announced it to be from a circulating library), he started back, and begging pardon, protested that he never read novels. Serenity stared at him, and Mai exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some deliberation he chose Fordyce's Sermons. Mai gaped as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with:

"Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town."

Mai was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr. Otogi, much offended, laid aside his book, and said:

"I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin."

Then turning to Mr. Wheeler, he offered himself as his antagonist at dungeon dice. Mr. Wheeler accepted the challenge, observing that he acted very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements. Mrs. Wheeler and her children apologised most civilly for Mai's interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would resume his book; but Mr. Otogi, after assuring them that he bore his young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Wheeler, and prepared for dungeon dice.

Mr. Otogi was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Ishizu Ishtar when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.

Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the Hikaris, if he found them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. This was his plan of amends—of atonement—for inheriting their father's estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own part.

His plan did not vary on seeing them. Yugi Wheeler's lovely face confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was due to seniority; and for the first evening _he_ was his settled choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an hour's tete-a-tete with Mrs. Wheeler before breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a bride might be found for it at Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Yugi he had fixed on. "As to her _younger_ children, she could not take upon her to say—she could not positively answer—but she did not _know_ of any prepossession; her _eldest_ son, she must just mention—she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged."

Mr. Otogi had only to change from Yugi to Jonouchi—and it was soon done—done while Mrs. Wheeler was stirring the fire. Jonouchi, equally next to Yugi in birth and beauty, succeeded hims of course.

Mrs. Wheeler treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have two Hikaris married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of the day before was now high in her good graces.

Mai's intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every child except Anzu agreed to go with her; and Mr. Otogi was to attend them, at the request of Mr. Wheeler, who was most anxious to get rid of him, and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Otogi had followed him after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Wheeler, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Wheeler exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told Jonouchi, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the house, he was used to be free from them there; his civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Otogi to join his children in their walk; and Mr. Otogi, being in fact much better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go.

In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in a shop window, could recall them.

But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Mai came to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the stranger's air, all wondered who he could be; and Serenity and Mai, determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street, under pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Pegasus, who had returned with him the day before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted a commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming. His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking together very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Kaiba and Yami were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the party, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities. Mutou was the principal spokesman, and the eldest Wheeler the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after him. Mr. Kaiba corroborated it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Jonouchi, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Jonouchi happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Pegasus, after a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Kaiba just deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.

In another minute, Mr. Mutou, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.

Mr. Denny and Mr. Pegasus walked with the party to the door of Mr. Phillip's house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Mai's pressing entreaties that they should come in, and even in spite of Mrs. Phillips's throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the invitation.

Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest, from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as their own carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing about, if she had not happened to see Mr. Jones's shop-boy in the street, who had told her that they were not to send any more draughts to Netherfield because the Wheelers were come away, when her civility was claimed towards Mr. Otogi by Yugi's introduction of him. She received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any previous acquaintance with her, which he could not help flattering himself, however, might be justified by his relationship to the young children who introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom, however, she could only tell her nieces and nephews what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant's commission in the —shire. She had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, and had Mr. Pegasus appeared, Serenity and Mai would certainly have continued the occupation, but unluckily no one passed windows now except a few of the officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become "stupid, disagreeable fellows." Some of them were to dine with the Phillipses the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Pegasus, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. Otogi repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured with unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless.

As they walked home, Jonouchi related to Yugi what he had seen pass between the two gentlemen; but though Yugi would have defended either or both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, he could no more explain such behaviour than his brother.

Mr. Otogi on his return highly gratified Mrs. Wheeler by admiring Mrs. Phillips's manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady Ishizu and her children, he had never seen a more elegant woman; for she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but even pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so much attention in the whole course of his life.

As no objection was made to the young people's engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Otogi's scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler for a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and the children had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. Pegasus had accepted their uncle's invitation, and was then in the house.

When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr. Otogi was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast parlour at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much gratification; but when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its proprietor—when she had listened to the description of only one of Lady Ishizu's drawing-rooms, and found that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison with the housekeeper's room.

In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Ishizu and her mansion, with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and the improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Phillips a very attentive listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as soon as she could. To the children, who could not listen to their cousin, and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantelpiece, the interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however. The gentlemen did approach, and when Mr. Pegasus walked into the room, Jonouchi felt that he had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration. The officers of the —shire were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party; but Mr. Pegasus was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and walk, as _they_ were superior to the broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips, breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.

Mr. Pegasus was the happy man towards whom almost every available bride's eye was turned, and Jonouchi was the happy Hikari by whom he finally seated himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made him feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.

With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Pegasus and the officers, Mr. Otogi seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young cousins he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her watchfulness, most abundantly supplied with coffee and muffin. When the card-tables were placed, he had the opportunity of obliging her in turn, by sitting down to whist.

"I know little of the game at present," said he, "but I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation in life—" Mrs. Phillips was very glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason.

Mr. Pegasus did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he received at the other table between Jonouchi and Mai. At first there seemed danger of Mai's engrossing him entirely, for she was a most determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets, she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets and exclaiming after prizes to have attention for anyone in particular. Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Pegasus was therefore at leisure to talk to Jonouchi, and he was very willing to hear him, though what he chiefly wished to hear he could not hope to be told—the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Kaiba. He dared not even mention that gentleman. His curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Pegasus began the subject himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving his answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Kaiba had been staying there.

"About a month," said Jonouchi; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, "He is a Dark of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand."

"Yes," replied Mr. Pegasus; "his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy."

Jonouchi could not but look surprised.

"You may well be surprised, Sir Wheeler, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Kaiba?"

"As much as I ever wish to be," cried Jonouchi very warmly. "I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable."

"I have no right to give _my_ opinion," said Pegasus, "as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for _me_ to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish—and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family."

"Upon my word, I say no more _here_ than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone."

"I cannot pretend to be sorry," said Pegasus, after a short interruption, "that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with _him_ I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen."

"I should take him, even on _my_ slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man." Pegasus only shook his head.

"I wonder," said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, "whether he is likely to be in this country much longer."

"I do not at all know; but I _heard_ nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the —shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood."

"Oh! no—it is not for _me_ to be driven away by Mr. Kaiba. If _he_ wishes to avoid seeing _me_, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding _him_ but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Sir Wheeler, the late Mr. Kaiba, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Kaiba without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father."

Jonouchi found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all his heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.

Mr. Pegasus began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but very intelligible gallantry.

"It was the prospect of constant society, and good society," he added, "which was my chief inducement to enter the —shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I _must_ have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church _ought_ to have been my profession—I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."

"Indeed!"

"Yes—the late Mr. Kaiba bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere."

"Good heavens!" cried Jonouchi; "but how could _that_ be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?"

"There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Kaiba chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence—in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion _of_ him, and _to_ him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."

"This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced."

"Some time or other he _will_ be—but it shall not be by _me_. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose _him_."

Jonouchi honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.

"But what," said he, after a pause, "can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?"

"A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Kaiba liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort of preference which was often given me."

"I had not thought Mr. Kaiba so bad as this—though I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this."

After a few minutes' reflection, however, he continued, "I _do_ remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful."

"I will not trust myself on the subject," replied Pegasus; "I can hardly be just to him."

Jonouchi was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, "To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!" He could have added, "A young man, too, like _you_, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable"—but she contented herself with, "and one, too, who had probably been his companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!"

"We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. _My_ father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips, appears to do so much credit to—but he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Kaiba and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Kaiba, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Kaiba often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendence, and when, immediately before my father's death, Mr. Kaiba gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to _him_, as of his affection to myself."

"How strange!" cried Jonouchi. "How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Kaiba has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest—for dishonesty I must call it."

"It _is_ wonderful," replied Pegasus, "for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger impulses even than pride."

"Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?"

"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and _filial_ pride—for he is very proud of what his father was—have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also _brotherly_ pride, which, with _some_ brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his natural born brother, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."

"What sort of boy is young Kaiba?"

He shook his head. "I wish I could call him amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Kaiba. But he is too much like his brother—very, very proud. As a child, he was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to his amusement. But he is nothing to me now. He is a handsome boy, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since his father's death, his home has been London, where a lady lives with him, and superintends his education."

After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Jonouchi could not help reverting once more to the first, and saying:

"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Mutou! How can Mr. Mutou, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Mutou?"

"Not at all."

"He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Kaiba is."

"Probably not; but Mr. Kaiba can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable—allowing something for fortune and figure."

The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round the other table and Mr. Otogi took his station between his cousin Jonouchi and Mrs. Phillips. The usual inquiries as to his success was made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every point; but when Mrs. Phillips began to express her concern thereupon, he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least importance, that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged that she would not make herself uneasy.

"I know very well, madam," said he, "that when persons sit down to a card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Ishizu Ishtar, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters."

Mr. Pegasus's attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Otogi for a few moments, he asked Jonouchi in a low voice whether his relation was very intimately acquainted with the family of Ishtar.

"Lady Ishizu Ishtar," she replied, "has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Otogi was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long."

"You know of course that Lady Ishizu Ishtar and Lady Anne Kaiba were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Kaiba."

"No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Ishizu's connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday."

"Her son, Sir Ishtar, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that he and his cousin will unite the two estates."

This information made Jonouchi smile, as he thought of poor Marik. Vain indeed must be all his attentions, vain and useless his affection for his brother and his praise of himself, if he were already self-destined for another.

"Mr. Otogi," said he, "speaks highly both of Lady Ishizu and her son; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman."

"I believe her to be both in a great degree," replied Pegasus; "I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride for her nephew, who chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class."

Jonouchi allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and they continued talking together, with mutual satisfaction till supper put an end to cards, and gave the rest of the party their share of Mr. Pegasus's attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise of Mrs. Phillips's supper party, but his manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Jonouchi went away with his head full of him. He could think of nothing but of Mr. Pegasus, and of what he had told him, all the way home; but there was not time for him even to mention his name as they went, for neither Mai nor Mr. Otogi were once silent. Mai talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the fish she had won; and Mr. Otogi in describing the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.

+++

Jonouchi related to Yugi the next day what had passed between Mr. Pegasus and himself. Yugi listened with astonishment and concern; he knew not how to believe that Mr. Kaiba could be so unworthy of Mr. Mutou's regard; and yet, it was not in his nature to question the veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Pegasus. The possibility of his having endured such unkindness, was enough to interest all his tender feelings; and nothing remained therefore to be done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be otherwise explained.

"They have both," said he, "been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."

"Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Yugi, what have you got to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear _them_ too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody."

"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Jou, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Kaiba, to be treating his father's favourite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no."

"I can much more easily believe Mr. Mutou's being imposed on, than that Mr. Pegasus should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Kaiba contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks."

"It is difficult indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to think."

"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think."

But Yugi could think with certainty on only one point—that Mr. Mutou, if he _had_ been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public.

The two young Hikaris were summoned from the shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the arrival of the very persons of whom they had been speaking; Mr. Mutou and his brothers came to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two brothers were delighted to see their dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly asked what he had been doing with himself since their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Wheeler as much as possible, saying not much to Jonouchi, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Wheeler's civilities.

The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every one in the family. Mrs. Wheeler chose to consider it as given in compliment to her eldest son, and was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Mutou himself, instead of a ceremonious card. Yugi pictured to himself a happy evening in the society of his two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and Jonouchi thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr. Pegasus, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Kaiba's look and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Serenity and Mai depended less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they each, like Jonouchi, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Pegasus, he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball was, at any rate, a ball. And even Anzu could assure her family that she had no disinclination for it.

"While I can have my mornings to myself," said she, "it is enough—I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody."

Jonouchi's spirits were so high on this occasion, that though he did not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Otogi, he could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Mutou's invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement; and he was rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the Archbishop, or Lady Ishizu Ishtar, by venturing to dance.

"I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you," said he, "that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Jonouchi, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Yugi will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for him."

Jonouchi felt hims completely taken in. He had fully proposed being engaged by Mr. Pegasus for those very dances; and to have Mr. Otogi instead! his liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr. Pegasus's happiness and his own were perforce delayed a little longer, and Mr. Otogi's proposal accepted with as good a grace as he could. He was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first struck him, that _he_ was selected from among his siblings as worthy of being hier of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction, as he observed his increasing civilities toward himself, and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment on his wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than gratified himself by this effect of his charms, it was not long before his mother gave him to understand that the probability of their marriage was extremely agreeable to _him_.

Jonouchi, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Otogi might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.

If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the younger Miss Wheelers would have been in a very pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after—the very shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Jonouchi might have found some trial of his patience in weather which totally suspended the improvement of his acquaintance with Mr. Pegasus; and nothing less than a dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to Serenity and Mai.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Till Jonouchi entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in vain for Mr. Pegasus among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to him. The certainty of meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that might not unreasonably have alarmed him. He had dressed with more than usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than might be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Kaiba's pleasure in the Mutous' invitation to the officers; and though this was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was pronounced by his friend Denny, to whom Mai eagerly applied, and who told them that Pegasus had been obliged to go to town on business the day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant smile, "I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here."

This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Mai, was caught by Jonouchi, and, as it assured him that Kaiba was not less answerable for Pegasus's absence than if his first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that he could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. Attendance, forbearance, patience with Kaiba, was injury to Pegasus. He was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away with a degree of ill-humour which he could not wholly surmount even in speaking to Mr. Mutou, whose blind partiality provoked him.

But Jonouchi was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect of his own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on his spirits; and having told all his griefs to Tristian Honda, whom he had not seen for a week, he was soon able to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of his cousin, and to point him out to his particular notice. The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr. Otogi, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave him all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of his release from him was ecstasy.

He danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of Pegasus, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances were over, he returned to Tristan Taylor, and was in conversation with him, when he found himself suddenly addressed by Mr. Kaiba who took him so much by surprise in his application for his hand, that, without knowing what he did, he accepted him. He walked away again immediately, and he was left to fret over his own want of presence of mind; Tristian tried to console him:

"I dare say you will find him very agreeable."

"Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil."

When the dancing recommenced, however, and Kaiba approached to claim his hand, Tristian could not help cautioning him in a whisper, not to be a simpleton, and allow his fancy for Pegasus to make him appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence. Jonouchi made no answer, and took his place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which he was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Kaiba, and reading in his neighbours' looks, their equal amazement in beholding it. They stood for some time without speaking a word; and he began to imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to his partner to oblige him to talk, he made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, he addressed him a second time with:—"It is _your_ turn to say something now, Mr. Kaiba. I talked about the dance, and _you_ ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

He smiled, and assured him that whatever he wished him to say should be said.

"Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But _now_ we may be silent."

"Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?"

"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of _some_, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?"

"Both," replied Jonouchi archly; "for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb."

"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure," said he. "How near it may be to _mine_, I cannot pretend to say. _You_ think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly."

"I must not decide on my own performance."

He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down the dance, when he asked him if he and his siblings did not very often walk to Meryton. He answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, "When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of _hauteur_ overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Jonouchi, though blaming himself for his own weakness, could not go on. At length Kaiba spoke, and in a constrained manner said, "Mr. Pegasus is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his _making_ friends—whether he may be equally capable of _retaining_ them, is less certain."

"He has been so unlucky as to lose _your_ friendship," replied Jonouchi with emphasis, "and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."

Kaiba made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At that moment, Sir William Honda appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr. Kaiba, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.

"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Jono (glancing at his brother and Mutou) shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Kaiba:—but let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young man, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me."

The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Kaiba; but Sir William's allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Yami and Yugi, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly, he turned to his partner, and said, "Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of."

"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine."

"What think you of books?" said he, smiling.

"Books—oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings."

"I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions."

"No—I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else."

"The _present_ always occupies you in such scenes—does it?" said he, with a look of doubt.

"Yes, always," he replied, without knowing what he said, for his thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by him suddenly exclaiming, "I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Kaiba, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being created_."

"I am," said he, with a firm voice.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not."

"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first."

"May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Merely to the illustration of _your_ character," said he, endeavouring to shake off his gravity. "I am trying to make it out."

"And what is your success?"

He shook his head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."

"I can readily believe," answered he gravely, "that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Sir Wheeler, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either."

"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity."

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he coldly replied. He said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Kaiba's breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards him, which soon procured his pardon, and directed all his anger against another.

They had not long separated, when Marik came towards him, and with an expression of civil disdain accosted him:

"So, sir Jono, I hear you are quite delighted with Maximillion Pegasus! Your brother has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand questions; and I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that he was the son of old Pegasus, the late Mr. Kaiba's steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Kaiba's using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though George Pegasus has treated Mr. Kaiba in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Kaiba is not in the least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear Maximillion Pegasus mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Sir Jono, for this discovery of your favourite's guilt; but really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better."

"His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same," said Jonouchi angrily; "for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Kaiba's steward, and of _that_, I can assure you, he informed me himself."

"I beg your pardon," replied Marik, turning away with a sneer. "Excuse my interference—it was kindly meant."

"Insolent man!" said Jonouchi to himself. "You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Kaiba." He then sought his elder brother, who has undertaken to make inquiries on the same subject of Mutou. Yugi met him with a smile of such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently marked how well he was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening. Jonouchi instantly read his feelings, and at that moment solicitude for Pegasus, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave way before the hope of Yugi's being in the fairest way for happiness.

"I want to know," said he, with a countenance no less smiling than his brother's "what you have learnt about Mr. Pegasus. But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person; in which case you may be sure of my pardon."

"No," replied Yugi, "I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Mutou does not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Mr. Kaiba; but he will vouch for the good conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that Mr. Pegasus has deserved much less attention from Mr. Kaiba than he has received; and I am sorry to say by his account as well as his brother's, Mr. Pegasus is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Kaiba's regard."

"Mr. Mutou does not know Mr. Pegasus himself?"

"No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton."

"This account then is what he has received from Mr. Kaiba. I am satisfied. But what does he say of the living?"

"He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard them from Mr. Kaiba more than once, but he believes that it was left to him _conditionally_ only."

"I have not a doubt of Mr. Mutou's sincerity," said Jonouchi warmly; "but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. Mutou's defense of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I did before."

He then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and on which there could be no difference of sentiment. Jonouchi listened with delight to the happy, though modest hopes which Yugi entertained of Mr. Mutou's regard, and said all in his power to heighten his confidence in it. On their being joined by Mr. Mutou himself, Jonouchi withdrew to Tristian Honda; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of his last partner he had scarcely replied, before Mr. Otogi came up to them, and told him with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery.

"I have found out," said he, "by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of the house the names of his cousin Sir Ishtar, and of her mother Lady Ishizu. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with, perhaps, a nephew of Lady Ishizu Ishtar in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology."

"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Kaiba!"

"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Ishizu's _nephew_. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight."

Jonouchi tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Kaiba would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side; and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Kaiba, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Otogi listened to him with the determined air of following his own inclination, and, when he ceased speaking, replied thus:

"My dear Jonouchi, I have the highest opinion in the world in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom—provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young man like yourself." And with a low bow he left him to attack Mr. Kaiba, whose reception of his advances he eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. His cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and though he could not hear a word of it, he felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words "apology," "Hunsford," and "Lady Ishizu Ishtar." It vexed him to see him expose himself to such a man. Mr. Kaiba was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr. Otogi allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Otogi, however, was not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Kaiba's contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way. Mr. Otogi then returned to Jonouchi.

"I have no reason, I assure you," said he, "to be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Kaiba seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying that he was so well convinced of Lady Ishizu's discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him."

As Jonouchi had no longer any interest of his own to pursue, he turned his attention almost entirely on his brother and Mr. Mutou; and the train of agreeable reflections which he observations gave birth to, made him perhaps almost as happy as Yugi. He saw him in idea settled in that very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection could bestow; and he felt capable, under such circumstances, of endeavouring even to like Mutou's two brothers. His mother's thoughts he plainly saw were bent the same way, and he determined not to venture near her, lest he might hear too much. When they sat down to supper, therefore, he considered it a most unlucky perverseness which placed them within one of each other; and deeply was he vexed to find that her mother was talking to that one person (Lady Honda) freely, openly, and of nothing else but her expectation that Yugi would soon be married to Mr. Mutou. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Wheeler seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but three miles from them, were the first points of self-gratulation; and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two brothers were of Yugi, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger daughters and Jou, as Yugi's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of other rich men; and lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be able to consign her single children to the care of their brother, that she might not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on such occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs. Wheeler to find comfort in staying home at any period of her life. She concluded with many good wishes that Lady Honda might soon be equally fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no chance of it.

In vain did Jonouchi endeavour to check the rapidity of his mother's words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Kaiba, who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.

"What is Mr. Kaiba to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing _he_ may not like to hear."

"For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be for you to offend Mr. Kaiba? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing!"

Nothing that he could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Jonouchi blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation. He could not help frequently glancing his eye at Mr. Kaiba, though every glance convinced him of what he dreaded; for though he was not always looking at his mother, he was convinced that his attention was invariably fixed on him. The expression of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and steady gravity.

At length, however, Mrs. Wheeler had no more to say; and Lady Honda, who had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken. Jonouchi now began to revive. But not long was the interval of tranquillity; for, when supper was over, singing was talked of, and he had the mortification of seeing Anzu, after very little entreaty, preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent entreaties, did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance, but in vain; Anzu would not understand them; such an opportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. Jonouchi's eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations, and he watched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatience which was very ill rewarded at their close; for Anzu, on receiving, amongst the thanks of the table, the hint of a hope that she might be prevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minute began another. Anzu's powers were by no means fitted for such a display; her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Jonouchi was in agonies. He looked at Yugi, to see how he bore it; but Yugi was very composedly talking to Mutou. He looked at his two younger sisters, and saw them making signs of derision at each other, and at Kaiba, who continued, however, imperturbably grave. He looked at his father to entreat his interference, lest Anzu should be singing all night. He took the hint, and when Anzu had finished her second song, said aloud, "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."

Anzu, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and Jonouchi, sorry for her, and sorry for her father's speech, was afraid his anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.

"If I," said Mr. Otogi, "were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however, to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the family." And with a bow to Mr. Kaiba, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room. Many stared—many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr. Wheeler himself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Otogi for having spoken so sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Honda, that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.

To Jonouchi it appeared that, had his family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success; and happy did he think it for Mutou and his brothers that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he must have witnessed. That his two brothers and Mr. Kaiba, however, should have such an opportunity of ridiculing his relations, was bad enough, and he could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, or the insolent smiles of the brothers, were more intolerable.

The rest of the evening brought him little amusement. He was teased by Mr. Otogi, who continued most perseveringly by his side, and though he could not prevail on him to dance with him again, put it out of his power to dance with others. In vain did he entreat him to stand up with somebody else, and offer to introduce him to any young lady or Hikari in the room. He assured him, that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it; that his chief object was by delicate attentions to recommend himself to him and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close to him the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a project. He owed him greatest relief to his friend Tristian Honda, who often joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Otogi's conversation to himself.

He was at least free from the offense of Mr. Kaiba's further notice; though often standing within a very short distance of him, quite disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. He felt it to be the probable consequence of his allusions to Mr. Pegasus, and rejoiced in it.

The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs. Wheeler, had to wait for their carriage a quarter of an hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Bakura and his brother scarcely opened their mouths, except to complain of fatigue, and were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed every attempt of Mrs. Wheeler at conversation, and by so doing threw a languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the long speeches of Mr. Otogi, who was complimenting Mr. Mutou and his brothers on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Kaiba said nothing at all. Mr. Wheeler, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene. Mr. Mutou and Yugi were standing together, a little detached from the rest, and talked only to each other. Jonouchi preserved as steady a silence as either Bakura or Marik; and even Mai was too much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of "Lord, how tired I am!" accompanied by a violent yawn.

When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Wheeler was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn, and addressed herself especially to Mr. Mutou, to assure him how happy he would make them by eating a family dinner with them at any time, without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Mutou was all grateful pleasure, and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her, after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the next day for a short time.

Mrs. Wheeler was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under the delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly see her son settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four months. Of having another Hikari married to Mr. Otogi, she thought with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure. Jonouchi was the **least** dear to her of all her children; and though the man and the match were quite good enough for _her_, the worth of each was eclipsed by Mr. Mutou and Netherfield.


	5. Chapter 5

If you've stuck along for this long, I'm incredibly happy. It's not always easy reading this type of language. It's gets down right confusing and you may actually need to read things over twice-or even three times. If you have patience, hopefully you find those little things to love like I do. I like how when they speak, they are always polite and compliment you. I especially love how they will say, "she is a most handsome girl". It fills my heat with gushy warmth.

Also, a while back I heard a radio episode about writers and that the way to keep readers interested was to have dialogue. They said skip the description and just go to the dialogue. Most of readers skip descriptions anyways, they mentioned. While doing over this book, I have to say it's true. Have you notice that even though a paragraph may start off as a description it's somehow still a dialogue?

Going over these chapters and slightly altering the speech makes me want to do a modern spin off of this book.

On a different note, if you did not know, Pride and Prejudice does have a movie. It's not that bad, it's in my top favorites. The cinematography is great.

* * *

Chapter 5

The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Otogi made his declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at the moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the observances, which he supposed a regular part of the business. On finding Mrs. Wheeler, Jonouchi, and one of the younger girls together, soon after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words:

"May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair son Jonouchi, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with him in the course of this morning?"

Before Jonouchi had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs. Wheeler answered instantly, "Oh dear!—yes—certainly. I am sure Jou will be very happy—I am sure he can have no objection. Come, Serenity, I want you up stairs." And, gathering her work together, she was hastening away, when Jonouchi called out:

"Dear madam, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Otogi must excuse me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am going away myself."

"No, no, nonsense, Jou. I desire you to stay where you are." And upon Jonouchi's seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about to escape, she added: "Jou, I _insist_ upon your staying and hearing Mr. Otogi."

Jonouchi would not oppose such an injunction—and a moment's consideration making him also sensible that it would be wisest to get it over as soon and as quietly as possible, he sat down again and tried to conceal, by incessant employment the feelings which were divided between distress and diversion. Mrs. Wheeler and Serenity walked off, and as soon as they were gone, Mr. Otogi began.

"Believe me, my dear Jonouchi, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there _not_ been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure you, that I have your respected mother's permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying—and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a bride, as I certainly did."

The idea of Mr. Otogi, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, made Jonouchi so near laughing, that he could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further, and he continued:

"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly—which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford—between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Sir Ishtar footstool, that she said, 'Mr. Otogi, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a Hikari or bride for _my_ sake; and for your _own_, let they be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a bride as soon as you can, bring your bride to Hunsford, and I will visit them.' Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Ishizu Ishtar as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young brides. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a bride from among his children, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place—which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother's decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.

"You are too hasty, sir," he cried. "You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them."

"I am not now to learn," replied Mr. Otogi, with a formal wave of the hand, "that it is usual with young brides to reject the addresses of the husband whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long."

"Upon my word, sir," cried Jonouchi, "your hope is a rather extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young brides (if such young bride there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make _me_ happy, and I am convinced that I am the last bride in the world who could make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Ishizu to know me, I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation."

"Were it certain that Lady Ishizu would think so," said Mr. Otogi very gravely—"but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the very highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualification."

"Indeed, Mr. Otogi, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be considered, therefore, as finally settled." And rising as he thus spoke, he would have quitted the room, had Mr. Otogi not thus addressed him:

"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of Hikaris to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the Hikari character."

"Really, Mr. Otogi," cried Jonouchi with some warmth, "you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one."

"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of Ishtar, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into further consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."

"I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant Hikari, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from his heart."

"You are uniformly charming!" cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; "and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable."

To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Jonouchi would make no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, if he persisted in considering him repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, to apply to his father, whose negative might be uttered in such a manner as to be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant Hikari.

Mr. Otogi was not left long to the silent contemplation of his successful love; for Mrs. Wheeler, having dawdled about in the vestibule to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Jonouchi open the door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and Jou in warm terms on the happy prospect or their nearer connection. Mr. Otogi received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow from his bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of his character.

This information, however, startled Mrs. Wheeler; she would have been glad to be equally satisfied that her son had meant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it, and could not help saying so.

"But, depend upon it, Mr. Otogi," she added, "that Jou shall be brought to reason. I will speak to him about it directly. He is a very headstrong, foolish boy, and does not know his own interest but I will _make_ him know it."

"Pardon me for interrupting you, madam," cried Mr. Otogi; "but if he is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether he would altogether be a very desirable bride to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore he actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to force him into accepting me, because if liable to such defects of temper, he could not contribute much to my felicity."

"Sir, you quite misunderstand me," said Mrs. Wheeler, alarmed. "Jou is only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else he is as good-natured a boy as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Wheeler, and we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure."

She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her husband, called out as she entered the library, "Oh! Mr. Wheeler, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. You must come and make Jou marry Mr. Otogi, for he vows he will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have _him_."

Mr. Wheeler raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by her communication.

"I have not the pleasure of understanding you," said he, when she had finished her speech. "Of what are you talking?"

"Of Mr. Otogi and Jou. Jou declares he will not have Mr. Otogi, and Mr. Otogi begins to say that he will not have Jou."

"And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopeless business."

"Speak to Jou about it yourself. Tell him that you insist upon his marrying him."

"Let him be called down. He shall hear my opinion."

Mrs. Wheeler rang the bell, and Jonouchi was summoned to the library.

"Come here, child," cried her father as he appeared. "I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Otogi has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Jonouchi replied that it was.

"Very well—and this offer of marriage you have refused?"

"I have, sir."

"Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Wheeler?"

"Yes, or I will never see him again."

"An unhappy alternative is before you, Jonouchi. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do _not_ marry Mr. Otogi, and I will never see you again if you _do_."

Jonouchi could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning, but Mrs. Wheeler, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.

"What do you mean, Mr. Wheeler, in talking this way? You promised me to _insist_ upon him marrying him."

"My dear," replied her husband, "I have two small favours to request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be."

Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did Mrs. Wheeler give up the point. She talked to Jonouchi again and again; coaxed and threatened him by turns. She endeavoured to secure Yugi in her interest; but Yugi, with all possible mildness, declined interfering; and Jonouchi, sometimes with real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner varied, however, her determination never did.

Mr. Otogi, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motives his cousin could refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other way. His regard for him was quite imaginary; and the possibility of him deserving his mother's reproach prevented his feeling any regret.

While the family were in this confusion, Tristan Honda came to spend the day with them. He was met in the vestibule by Mai, who, flying to him, cried in a half whisper, "I am glad you are come, for there is such fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Otogi has made an offer to Jou, and he will not have him."

Tristan hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by Serenity, who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they entered the breakfast-room, where Mrs. Wheeler was alone, than she likewise began on the subject, calling on Tristan for his compassion, and entreating him to persuade his friend Jou to comply with the wishes of all his family. "Pray do, my dear Tristan," she added in a melancholy tone, "for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor nerves."

Tristan's reply was spared by the entrance of Yugi and Jonouchi.

"Aye, there he comes," continued Mrs. Wheeler, "looking as unconcerned as may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided he can have his own way. But I tell you, Jou—if you take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband at all—and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you—and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied."

Her children listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that any attempt to reason with her or soothe her would only increase the irritation. She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr. Otogi, who entered the room with an air more stately than usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls, "Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and let me and Mr. Otogi have a little conversation together."

Jonouchi passed quietly out of the room, Yugi and Serenity followed, but Mai stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Tristan, detained first by the civility of Mr. Otogi, whose inquiries after himself and all his family were very minute, and then by a little curiosity, satisfied himself with walking to the window and pretending not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Wheeler began the projected conversation:

"Oh! Mr. Otogi!"

"My dear madam," replied he, "let us be for ever silent on this point. Far be it from me," he presently continued, in a voice that marked his displeasure, "to resent the behaviour of your son. Resignation to inevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment; and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with hiss hand; for I have often observed that resignation is never so perfect as when the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your son's favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Wheeler the compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my dismission from your son's lips instead of your own. But we are all liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my _manner_ has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologise."

The discussion of Mr. Otogi's offer was now nearly at an end, and Jonouchi had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusions of his mother. As for the gentleman himself, _his_ feelings were chiefly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid him, but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to him, and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Tristan, whose civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and especially to his friend.

The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Wheeler's ill-humour or ill health. Mr. Otogi was also in the same state of angry pride. Jonouchi had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he meant to stay.

After breakfast, the children walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Pegasus were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball. He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their aunt's where his regret and vexation, and the concern of everybody, was well talked over. To Jonouchi, however, he voluntarily acknowledged that the necessity of his absence _had_ been self-imposed.

"I found," said he, "as the time drew near that I had better not meet Mr. Kaiba; that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself."

He highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a full discussion of it, and for all the commendation which they civilly bestowed on each other, as Pegasus and another officer walked back with them to Longbourn, and during the walk he particularly attended to hims. His accompanying them was a double advantage; he felt all the compliment it offered to himself, and it was most acceptable as an occasion of introducing him to his father and mother.

Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Sir Yugi Wheeler; it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little, hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady's fair, flowing hand; and Jonouchi saw his brother's countenance change as he read it, and saw him dwelling intently on some particular passages. Yugi recollected himself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with his usual cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Jonouchi felt an anxiety on the subject which drew off his attention even from Pegasus; and no sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Yugi invited him to follow him up stairs. When they had gained their own room, Yugi, taking out the letter, said:

"This is from Caroline Mutou; what it contains has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town—and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear what she says."

He then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly, and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Ryou had a house. The next was in these words:

"I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that." To these highflown expressions Jonouchi listened with all the insensibility of distrust; and though the suddenness of their removal surprised him, he saw nothing in it really to lament; it was not to be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Mutou's being there; and as to the loss of their society, he was persuaded that Yugi must cease to regard it, in the enjoyment of his.

"It is unlucky," said he, after a short pause, "that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to which Marik looks forward may arrive earlier than he is aware, and that the delightful intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as brothers? Mr. Mutou will not be detained in Kyoto by them."

"Marik decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you:"

"When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to Kyoto might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Yami gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd—but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you."

"It is evident by this," added Yugi, "that he comes back no more this winter."

"It is only evident that Marik does not mean that he _should_."

"Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master. But you do not know _all_. I _will_ read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from _you_."

"Mr. Kaiba is impatient to see his brother; and, to confess the truth, _we_ are scarcely less eager to meet him again. I really do not think Mokuba Kaiba has his equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection he inspires in Bakura and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare entertain of him being hereafter our brother. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires him greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing him on the most intimate footing; his relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a brother's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Yami most capable of engaging any person's heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Yugi, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?"

"What do you think of _this_ sentence, my dear Jou?" said Yugi as he finished it. "Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Marik neither expects nor wishes me to be his brother; that he is perfectly convinced of his brother's indifference; and that if he suspects the nature of my feelings for him, he means (most kindly!) to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?"

"Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?"

"Most willingly."

"You shall have it in a few words. Marik sees that his brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry young Kaiba. He follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you."

Yugi shook his head.

"Indeed, Yugi, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Marik, I am sure, cannot. He is not such a simpleton. Could he have seen half as much love in Mr. Kaiba for himself, he would have ordered his wedding clothes. But the case is this: We are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and he is the more anxious to get young Kaiba for his brother, from the notion that when there has been _one_ intermarriage, he may have less trouble in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I dare say it would succeed, if Sir Ishtar were out of the way. But, my dearest Yugi, you cannot seriously imagine that because Marik tells you his brother greatly admires young Kaiba, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday, or that it will be in his power to persuade him that, instead of being in love with you, he is very much in love with his friend."

"If we thought alike of Marik," replied Yugi, "your representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Marik is incapable of wilfully deceiving anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is that he is deceiving himself."

"That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe him to be deceived, by all means. You have now done your duty by him, and must fret no longer."

"But, my dear brother, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in accepting a man whose brother and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere?"

"You must decide for yourself," said Jonouchi; "and if, upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two brothers is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his bride, I advise you by all means to refuse him."

"How can you talk so?" said Yugi, faintly smiling. "You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate."

"I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion."

"But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be required. A thousand things may arise in six months!"

The idea of his returning no more Jonouchi treated with the utmost contempt. It appeared to his merely the suggestion of Marik's interested wishes, and he could not for a moment suppose that those wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man so totally independent of everyone.

He represented to his brother as forcibly as possible what he felt on the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect. Yugi's temper was not desponding, and he was gradually led to hope, though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that Mutou would return to Netherfield and answer every wish of his heart.

They agreed that Mrs. Wheeler should only hear of the departure of the family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman's conduct; but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern, and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation that Mr. Mutou would be soon down again and soon dining at Longbourn, and the conclusion of all was the comfortable declaration, that though he had been invited only to a family dinner, she would take care to have two full courses.

The Wheelers were engaged to dine with the Honda's and again during the chief of the day was Tristan Honda so kind as to listen to Mr. Otogi. Jonouchi took an opportunity of thanking him. "It keeps him in good humour," said he, "and I am more obliged to you than I can express." Tristan assured his friend of his satisfaction in being useful, and that it amply repaid him for the little sacrifice of his time. This was very amiable, but Tristan's kindness extended farther than Jonouchi had any conception of; its object was nothing else than to secure his from any return of Mr. Otogi's addresses, by engaging them towards himself. Such was Tristan's scheme; and appearances were so favourable, that when they parted at night, he would have felt almost secure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very soon. But here he did injustice to the fire and independence of his character, for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Honda Lodge to throw himself at his feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins, from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not fail to conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known till its success might be known likewise; for though feeling almost secure, and with reason, for Tristan had been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively diffident since the adventure of Wednesday. His reception, however, was of the most flattering kind. Sir Tristan perceived him from an upper window as he walked towards the house, and instantly set out to meet him accidentally in the lane. But little had he dared to hope that so much love and eloquence awaited him there.

In as short a time as Mr. Otogi's long speeches would allow, everything was settled between them to the satisfaction of both; and as they entered the house he earnestly entreated his to name the day that was to make him the happiest of men; and though such a solicitation must be waived for the present, the man felt no inclination to trifle with his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature must guard his courtship from any charm that could make a bride wish for its continuance; and Tristan Honda, who accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested desire of an establishment, cared not how soon that establishment were gained.

Sir William and Lady Honda were speedily applied to for their consent; and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Otogi's present circumstances made it a most eligible match for their son, to whom they could give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth were exceedingly fair. Lady Honda began directly to calculate, with more interest than the matter had ever excited before, how many years longer Mr. Wheeler was likely to live; and Sir William gave it as his decided opinion, that whenever Mr. Otogi should be in possession of the Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient that both he and his wife should make their appearance at St. James's. The whole family, in short, were properly overjoyed on the occasion. The younger girls formed hopes of _coming out_ a year or two sooner than they might otherwise have done; and the boys were relieved from their apprehension of Tristan dying an old man alone. Tristan himself was tolerably composed. He had gained his point, and had time to consider of it. His reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. Otogi, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable; his society was irksome, and his attachment to him must be imaginary. But still he would be his husband. Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been his object; it was the only provision for well-educated young men of very small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want. This preservative he had now obtained; and at the age of twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, he felt all the good luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business was the surprise it must occasion to Jonouchi Wheeler, whose friendship he valued beyond that of any other person. Jonouchi would wonder, and probably would blame him; and though his resolution was not to be shaken, his feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. He resolved to give him the information himself, and therefore charged Mr. Otogi, when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct questions on his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to publish his prosperous love.

As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see any of the family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies moved for the night; and Mrs. Wheeler, with great politeness and cordiality, said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again, whenever his engagements might allow him to visit them.

"My dear madam," he replied, "this invitation is particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as possible."

They were all astonished; and Mr. Wheeler, who could by no means wish for so speedy a return, immediately said:

"But is there not danger of Lady Ishizu's disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of offending your patroness."

"My dear sir," replied Mr. Otogi, "I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her ladyship's concurrence."

"You cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything rather than her displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that _we_ shall take no offence."

"Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such affectionate attention; and depend upon it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Jonouchi."

With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Wheeler wished to understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of her younger girls, and Anzu might have been prevailed on to accept him. She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others; there was a solidity in his reflections which often struck her, and though by no means so clever as herself, she thought that if encouraged to read and improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every hope of this kind was done away. Tristan called soon after breakfast, and in a private conference with Jonouchi related the event of the day before.

The possibility of Mr. Otogi's fancying himself in love with his friend had once occurred to Jonouchi within the last day or two; but that Tristan could encourage him seemed almost as far from possibility as he could encourage him himself, and his astonishment was consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and he could not help crying out:

"Engaged to Mr. Otogi! My dear Tristan—impossible!"

The steady countenance which Tristan had commanded in telling his story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a reproach; though, as it was no more than he expected, he soon regained his composure, and calmly replied:

"Why should you be surprised, my dear Jono? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Otogi should be able to procure any person's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?"

But Jonouchi had now recollected himself, and making a strong effort for it, was able to assure with tolerable firmness that the prospect of their relationship was highly grateful to him, and that he wished him all imaginable happiness.

"I see what you are feeling," replied Tristan. "You must be surprised, very much surprised—so lately as Mr. Otogi was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Otogi's character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state."

Jonouchi quietly answered "Undoubtedly;" and after an awkward pause, they returned to the rest of the family. Tristan did not stay much longer, and Jonouchi was then left to reflect on what he had heard. It was a long time before he became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Otogi's making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. He had always felt that Tristan's opinion of matrimony was not exactly like his own, but he had not supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, he would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. Tristan the bride of Mr. Otogi was a most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing himself and sunk in his esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot he had chosen.

Jonouchi was sitting with his mother and sisters, reflecting on what he had heard, and doubting whether he was authorised to mention it, when Sir William Honda himself appeared, sent by his son, to announce his engagement to the family. With many compliments to them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter—to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Wheeler, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Mai, always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:

"Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Otogi wants to marry Jou?"

Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment; but Sir William's good breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.

Jonouchi, feeling it incumbent on him to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation, now put himself forward to confirm his account, by mentioning his prior knowledge of it from Tristan himself; and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of his mother and sisters by the earnestness of his congratulations to Sir William, in which he was readily joined by Yugi, and by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Otogi, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from Kyoto.

Mrs. Wheeler was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Otogi had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Jonouchi was the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she herself had been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Jonouchi without scolding her, a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Honda without being rude, and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their son.

Mr. Wheeler's emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for it gratified him, he said, to discover that Tristan Honda, whom he had been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his daughters!

Yugi confessed himself a little surprised at the match; but he said less of his astonishment than of his earnest desire for their happiness; nor could Jonouchi persuade him to consider it as improbable. Serenity and Mai were far from envying Tristan, for Mr. Otogi was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton.

Lady Honda could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Wheeler the comfort of having a son well married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Wheeler's sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.

Between Jonouchi and Tristan there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject; and Jonouchi felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. His disappointment in Tristan made him turn with fonder regard to his brother, of whose rectitude and delicacy he was sure his opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness he grew daily more anxious, as Mutou had now been gone a week and nothing more was heard of his return.

Yugi had sent Marik an early answer to his letter, and was counting the days till he might reasonably hope to hear again. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Otogi arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth's abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Honda, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying his society that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Ishizu, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that he wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Tristan to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.

Mr. Otogi's return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Wheeler. On the contrary, he was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Honda Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Wheeler, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Mutou's continued absence.

Neither Yugi nor Jonouchi were comfortable on this subject. Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Wheeler, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.

Even Jonouchi began to fear—not that Mutou was indifferent—but that his brothers would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as he was to admit an idea so destructive of Yugi's happiness, and so dishonorable to the stability of his lover, he could not prevent its frequently occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling brothers and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of young Kaiba and the amusements of Kyoto might be too much, he feared, for the strength of his attachment.

As for Yugi, _his_ anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more painful than Jonouchi's, but whatever he felt he was desirous of concealing, and between himself and Jonouchi, therefore, the subject was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Mutou, express her impatience for his arrival, or even require Yugi to confess that if he did not come back he would think himself very ill used. It needed all Yugi's steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.

Mr. Otogi returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention; and luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by him at Honda Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.

Mrs. Wheeler was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went he was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight of Tristan was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Tristan came to see them, she concluded him to be anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever he spoke in a low voice to Mr. Otogi, was convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself and her children out of the house, as soon as Mr. Wheeler were dead.

She complained bitterly of all this to her husband.

"Indeed, Mr. Wheeler," said she, "it is very hard to think that Tristan Honda should ever be owner of this house, that I should be forced to make way for _him_, and live to see him take his place in it!"

"My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor."

This was not very consoling to Mrs. Wheeler, and therefore, instead of making any answer, she went on as before.

"I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it."

"What should not you mind?"

"I should not mind anything at all."

"Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility."

"I never can be thankful, Mr. Wheeler, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one's own children, I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Otogi too! Why should _he_ have it more than anybody else?"

"I leave it to yourself to determine," said Mr. Wheeler.

* * *

I like this twist of events, I liked how Otogi mentioned that sometimes ladies refuse a man, yet actually want them. I also like how this era shows that love had no immediate influence on marriage. This time was so heavily influence by society, who you know and how much you would bring to the wedding be it by birthright or money. Tristan falls within that traditional aspect where as Jonouchi does not. In the actual novel, Jonouchi is known as Elizabeth Bennet. Pride and Prejudice brought in a feminist movement to the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Marik's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in Kyoto for the winter, and concluded with his brother's regret at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the country.

Hope was over, entirely over; and when Yugi could attend to the rest of the letter, he found little, except the professed affection of the writer, that could give him any comfort. Young Kaiba's praise occupied the chief of it. His many attractions were again dwelt on, and Marik boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in his former letter. He wrote also with great pleasure of his brother's being an inmate of Mr. Kaiba's house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furniture.

Jonouchi, to whom Yugi very soon communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation. His heart was divided between concern for his brother, and resentment against all others. To Marik's assertion of his brother's being partial to young Kaiba he paid no credit. That he was really fond of Yugi, he doubted no more than he had ever done; and much as he had always been disposed to like him, he could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happiness to the caprice of their inclination. Had his own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in whatever manner he thought best, but his brother's was involved in it, as he thought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. He could think of nothing else; and yet whether Mutou's regard had really died away, or were suppressed by his friends' interference; whether he had been aware of Yugi's attachment, or whether it had escaped his observation; whatever were the case, though his opinion of him must be materially affected by the difference, his brother's situation remained the same, his peace equally wounded.

A day or two passed before Yugi had courage to speak of his feelings to Jonouchi; but at last, on Mrs. Wheeler's leaving them together, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, he could not help saying:

"Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before."

Jonouchi looked at his brother with incredulous solicitude, but said nothing.

"You doubt me," cried Yugi, slightly colouring; "indeed, you have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not _that_ pain. A little time, therefore—I shall certainly try to get the better."

With a stronger voice he soon added, "I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself."

"My dear Yugi!" exclaimed Jonouchi, "you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve."

Yugi eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back the praise on his brother's warm affection.

"Nay," said Jonouchi, "this is not fair. _You_ wish to think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense. I have met with two instances lately, one I will not mention; the other is Tristan's marriage. It is unaccountable! In every view it is unaccountable!"

"My dear Jou, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Otogi's respectability, and Tristian's steady, prudent character. Remember that he is one of a large family; that as to fortune, it is a most eligible match; and be ready to believe, for everybody's sake, that he may feel something like regard and esteem for our cousin."

"To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that Tristan had any regard for him, I should only think worse of him understanding than I now do of his heart. My dear Yugi, Mr. Otogi is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; you know he is, as well as I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the bride who married him cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend him, though it is Tristan Honda. You shall not, for the sake of one individual, change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of danger security for happiness."

"I must think your language too strong in speaking of both," replied Yugi; "and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing them happy together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You mentioned _two_ instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Jou, not to pain me by thinking _that person_ to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. People fancy admiration means more than it does."

"And men take care that they should."

"If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine."

"I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Mutou's conduct to design," said Jonouchi; "but without scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people's feelings, and want of resolution, will do the business."

"And do you impute it to either of those?"

"Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying what I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can."

"You persist, then, in supposing his brother influence him?"

"Yes, in conjunction with his friend."

"I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me, no other bride can secure it."

"Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his happiness; they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they may wish him to marry a bride who has all the importance of money, great connections, and pride."

"Beyond a doubt, they _do_ wish him to choose young Kaiba," replied Yugi; "but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They have known him much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love him better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have opposed their brother's. What brother would think himself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable? If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been mistaken—or, at least, it is light, it is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his brothers. Let me take it in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood."

Jonouchi could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Mutou's name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.

Mrs. Wheeler still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no more, and though a day seldom passed in which Jonouchi did not account for it clearly, there was little chance of her ever considering it with less perplexity. Her sons endeavoured to convince her of what he did not believe himself, that his attentions to Yugi had been merely the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw him no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time, he had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Wheeler's best comfort was that Mr. Mutou must be down again in the summer.

Mr. Wheeler treated the matter differently. "So, Jou," said he one day, "your brother is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate him. Next to being married, a Hikari likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of, and it gives him a sort of distinction among his companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Yugi. Now is your time. Here are officers enough in Meryton to disappoint all the young available brides in the country. Let Pegasus be _your_ man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably."

"Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not all expect Yugi's good fortune."

"True," said Mr. Wheeler, "but it is a comfort to think that whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will make the most of it."

Mr. Pegasus's society was of material service in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn family. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now added that of general unreserve. The whole of what Jonouchi had already heard, his claims on Mr. Kaiba, and all that he had suffered from him, was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was pleased to know how much they had always disliked Mr. Kaiba before they had known anything of the matter.

Yugi Wheeler was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the society of Hertfordshire; her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes—but by everybody else Mr. Kaiba was condemned as the worst of men.

After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Otogi was called from his amiable Tristian by the arrival of Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his side, by preparations for the reception of his bride; as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his return into Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of thanks.

On the following Monday, Mrs. Wheeler had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Wheeler and Mrs. Phillips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great favourite with all her Longbourn nieces and nephews. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a particular regard. They had frequently been staying with her in town.

The first part of Mrs. Gardiner's business on her arrival was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was done she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs. Wheeler had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her Hikari's had been upon the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing in it.

"I do not blame Yugi," she continued, "for Yugi would have got Mr. Mutou if he could. But Jou! Oh, sister! It is very hard to think that he might have been Mr. Otogi's bride by this time, had it not been for his own perverseness. He made him an offer in this very room, and he refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Honda will have a son wed before I have, and that the Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people indeed, sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, of long sleeves."

Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Yugi and Jonouchi's correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nephews, turned the conversation.

When alone with Jonouchi afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. "It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Yugi," said she. "I am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, such as you describe Mr. Mutou, so easily falls in love with a pretty Hikari for a few weeks, and when accident separates them, so easily forgets them, that these sort of inconsistencies are very frequent."

"An excellent consolation in its way," said Jonouchi, "but it will not do for _us_. We do not suffer by _accident_. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a Hikari whom he was violently in love with only a few days before."

"But that expression of 'violently in love' is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as often applied to feelings which arise from a half-hour's acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how _violent was_ Mr. Mutou's love?"

"I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by him. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to dance; and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?"

"Oh, yes!—of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor Yugi! I am sorry for him, because, with his disposition, he may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to _you_, Jou; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think he would be prevailed upon to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service—and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything."

Jonouchi was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded of his brother's ready acquiescence.

"I hope," added Mrs. Gardiner, "that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence him. We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see him."

"And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Kaiba would no more suffer him to call on Yugi in such a part of Kyoto! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Kaiba may perhaps have _heard_ of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month's ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and depend upon it, Mr. Mutou never stirs without him."

"So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Yugi correspond with his brothers? _He_ will not be able to help calling."

"He will drop the acquaintance entirely."

But in spite of the certainty in which Jonouchi affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Mutou's being withheld from seeing Yugi, he felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced him, on examination, that he did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes he thought it probable, that his affection might be reanimated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Yugi's attractions.

Yugi Wheeler accepted his aunt's invitation with pleasure; and the Mutous were no otherwise in his thoughts at the same time, than as he hoped by Marik's not living in the same house with his brother, he might occasionally spend a morning with him, without any danger of seeing him.

The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Phillipses, the Hondas, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement. Mrs. Wheeler had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always made part of it—of which officers Mr. Pegasus was sure to be one; and on these occasions, Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Jonouchi's warm commendation, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she resolved to speak to Jonouchi on the subject before she left Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.

To Mrs. Gardiner, Pegasus had one means of affording pleasure, unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many acquaintances in common; and though Pegasus had been little there since the death of Kaiba's father, it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelligence of his former friends than he had been in the way of procuring.

Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Kaiba by character perfectly well. Here consequently was an inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with the minute description which Pegasus could give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the present Mr. Kaiba's treatment of him, she tried to remember some of that gentleman's reputed disposition when quite a lad which might agree with it, and was confident at last that she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Kaiba formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy.

Mrs. Gardiner's caution to Jonouchi was punctually and kindly given on the first favourable opportunity of speaking to him alone; after honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:

"You are too sensible a boy, Jou, to fall in love merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve yourself or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want of fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against _him_; he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all expect you to use it. Your father would depend on _your_ resolution and good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father."

"My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed."

"Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise."

"Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of myself, and of Mr. Pegasus too. He shall not be in love with me, if I can prevent it."

"Jonouchi, you are not serious now."

"I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in love with Mr. Pegasus; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw—and if he becomes really attached to me—I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh! _that_ abominable Mr. Kaiba! My father's opinion of me does me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, however, is partial to Mr. Pegasus. In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best."

"Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very often. At least, you should not _remind_ your mother of inviting him."

"As I did the other day," said Jonouchi with a conscious smile: "very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from _that_. But do not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You know my mother's ideas as to the necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied."

Her aunt assured her that she was, and Jonouchi having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they parted; a wonderful instance of advice being given on such a point, without being resented.

Mr. Otogi returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted by the Gardiners and Yugi; but as he took up his abode with the Hondas, his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Wheeler. His marriage was now fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she "_wished_ they might be happy." Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday Tristian paid his farewell visit; and when he rose to take leave, Jonouchi, ashamed of her mother's ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected himself, accompanied him out of the room. As they went downstairs together, Tristan said:

"I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Jono."

"_That_ you certainly shall."

"And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?"

"We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire."

"I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford."

Jonouchi could not refuse, though he foresaw little pleasure in the visit.

"My father and Maria are coming to me in March," added Tristan, "and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Jono, you will be as welcome as either of them."

The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject as usual. Jonouchi soon heard from his friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that it should be equally unreserved was impossible. Jonouchi could never address him without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was. Tristan's first letters were received with a good deal of eagerness; there could not but be curiosity to know how he would speak of his new home, how he would like Lady Ishizu, and how happy he would dare pronounce himself to be; though, when the letters were read, Jonouchi felt that Tristan expressed himself on every point exactly as he might have foreseen. He wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which he could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and roads, were all to his taste, and Lady Ishizu's behaviour was most friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Otogi's picture of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and Jonouchi perceived that he must wait for his own visit there to know the rest.

Yugi had already written a few lines to his brother to announce their safe arrival in Kyoto; and when she wrote again, Jonouchi hoped it would be in his power to say something of the Mutous.

His impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience generally is. Yugi had been a week in town without either seeing or hearing from Marik. He accounted for it, however, by supposing that his last letter to his friend from Longbourn had by some accident been lost.

"My aunt," he continued, "is going to-morrow into that part of the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street."

He wrote again when the visit was paid, and he had seen Marik. "I did not think Marik in spirits," were his words, "but he was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving him no notice of my coming to Kyoto. I was right, therefore, my last letter had never reached him. I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr. Kaiba that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that young Kaiba was expected to dinner. I wish I could see him. My visit was not long, as Marik and Bakura were going out. I dare say I shall see them soon here."

Jonouchi shook his head over this letter. It convinced him that accident only could discover to Mr. Mutou his brother's being in town.

Four weeks passed away, and Yugi saw nothing of him. He endeavoured to persuade himself that he did not regret it; but he could no longer be blind to Marik's inattention. After waiting at home every morning for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for him, the visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of his stay, and yet more, the alteration of his manner would allow Yugi to deceive himself no longer. The letter which he wrote on this occasion to his brother will prove what he felt.

"My dearest Jou will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in his better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Marik's regard for me. But, my dear brother, though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what his behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend his reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Marik did not return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When he did come, it was very evident that he had no pleasure in it; he made a slight, formal apology, for not calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so altered a creature, that when he went away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming him. He was very wrong in singling me out as he did; I can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on his side. But I pity him, because he must feel that he has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for his brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and though _we_ know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if he feels it, it will easily account for his behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he is to his brother, whatever anxiety he must feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at his having any such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we must have met, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am certain, from something he said himself; and yet it would seem, by his manner of talking, as if he wanted to persuade himsmelf that he is really partial to young Kaiba. I cannot understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavour to banish every painful thought, and think only of what will make me happy—your affection, and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from you very soon. Marik said something of his never returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there.—Yours, etc."

This letter gave Jonouchi some pain; but his spirits returned as he considered that Yugi would no longer be duped, by the brothers at least. All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. He would not even wish for a renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every review of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible advantage to Yugi, he seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr. Kaiba's brother, as by Pegasus's account, he would make him abundantly regret what he had thrown away.

Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Jonouchi of his promise concerning that gentleman, and required information; and Jonouchi had such to send as might rather give contentment to his aunt than to himself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over, he was the admirer of some one else.

Jonouchi was watchful enough to see it all, but he could see it and write of it without material pain. His heart had been but slightly touched, and his vanity was satisfied with believing that _he_ would have been his only choice, had fortune permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering himself agreeable; but Jonouchi, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than in Tristan's, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence. Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and while able to suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish him, he was ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very sincerely wish him happy.

All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating the circumstances, he thus went on: "I am now convinced, my dear aunt, that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards _him_; they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My watchfulness has been effectual; and though I certainly should be a more interesting object to all my acquaintances were I distractedly in love with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance. Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Serenity and Mai take his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the plain."


End file.
